


I had a thought, dear (however scary af)

by wtf_is_frank_up_to



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Chaotic writing, Fluff, Gay Panic, Kinda, Literal Sleeping Together, Love Letters, M/M, Mutual Pining, NO ANGST THIS TIME, No Angst, Pining, Sleep, Sleeping Together, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Yearning, dramatic todd, im back on my bs babeeey, not in a sexy way get your mind out of the gutter, soft, todd is anxious again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:02:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29093187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wtf_is_frank_up_to/pseuds/wtf_is_frank_up_to
Summary: todd is having a gay panic tmneil is asleep tmhave fun. im back with chaotic narration.
Relationships: Todd Anderson/Neil Perry
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	I had a thought, dear (however scary af)

**Author's Note:**

> this is basically a love letter to my partner, because i again put todd in a situation from my life (kinda).  
> its the "i love u so much what the fuck" fic

Is it possible to feel yourself going crazy? Because Todd could literally feel sanity leaving his body. Dripping out with every passing second.   
Like water from a broken faucet; it’s unbearable in the daylight, and leaving it unchecked will probably make the problem worse. But when you try to sleep, it makes you want to bang your head against something heavy. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Maybe he was overexaggerating. But maybe not.

“Hey Todd, why are you going insane?” Someone could ask. 

The answer was simple. 

Gay Panic.

That’s how Charlie would call it, anyways; he was merciless when it came to his friends’ love life incompetence (even though he was a damn hypocrite, who didn’t listen to his own advice.)   
“How about you just listen to your heart or whatever you have there, probably a brick or something, and act on your feelings?” how dare he. 

Anyways, the point was, he was experiencing gay panic.    
Why?

Simple. A mere centimeters away, the love of his life (he didn’t know yet, but he was in fact the love of his life) was peacefully sleeping. Goddammit, Neil.

They were out there, at his grandparents’ house, far away from school and social norms that held him back from kissing boys.    
Well, kissing probably should come later. How insane was he, that their legs brushing against each other (from two different, though very small, mattresses mind you), and he still was about to die from overdose. 

(Overdose of what? He was reaching Werther’s, or Knox’s, levels of overreaction.)   
  


Never before was he more aware about having skin with loads of nerve endings. Their knees, this close? It was almost tingling.

He sometimes wanted to hate Neil, because maybe that’d be easier to handle than this pathetic crush. 

Why did he have to be like that? With his stupid puppy eyes and dumb hair that never seen a brush and his happy attitude and why is he always smiling at him like that and- ugh. Sometimes Todd wished he could borrow Pitts’ skills and draw him.

Or do anything to let out the awe he had towards the other boy. The very same feeling that grabbed him by the throat and didn’t let him write all the things he’d otherwise scream into the dead of night.    
What could he write anyways?   
  
_ Dear Neil. I’m in love with you. Your hair is very soft. And I’ll probably go blind from looking at you too much, because what the fuck is up with your smile, I’m 90% sure it makes plants grow.  _ That’s not very poetic. Walt Whitman was probably rolling in his grave.

  
(Before Neil, Todd always assumed that you either have dimples, or have your eyes disappear under your cheeks when you smile. But Neil somehow had both. Cheater.)

  
After discovering that him telling jokes with a completely straight face is what cracks Neil up the most, he did it as often as possible, just to see it again. Even if they were just stupid puns, like “What do you call a dog who can do magic?”*

And the worst part was that Neil acted completely oblivious. Either that, or he just really wanted Todd to die from a heart attack, Todd couldn’t decide yet.

Although, to be completely honest with himself, Neil acted the same way as always. Maybe that was the whole problem.    
Neil had no concept of personal space; he’s out there being unapologetically and unashamedly tactile, while Todd can feel his soul leaving his body every time something as minor as their shoulders touching happens.    
Sleeping was actually even worse. 

Tonight Neil dropped next to him, murmured “g’night” under his breath and then was asleep. Just like that. Todd almost couldn’t make out his features in the dark. He just saw the outlines - all sharply defined. His face was like someone drew it with charcoal, and Todd really couldn’t understand how it worked (how can one’s face go from all sharp and marble-ancient greek statue-like to absolutely soft and happy in a span of few seconds? That just wasn’t fair.)

He felt like a complete creep for thinking all of this alone. 

Todd didn’t want to sleep because he can’t focus on sleeping when Neil is so close and warm is radiating from him like a damn sunshine he is, and he smells like... something he can’t quite place, but at this point it just makes him think of Neil. 

He also can’t sleep because what if he does something dumb in his sleep. Or Ńeil does something weird again. Last night he literally sat up straight in his sleep.** What if- oh fuck.

Out of nowhere, Neil rolls from his own mattress and onto his. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he also draped his arm around Todd’s waist and held him. Todd could feel his breath on his neck. And Neil’s fringe was tickling him in the forehead. Can a forehead be ticklish?   
So close. So warm. And really nice, actually. Holy fuck.    
_ fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck _

He feels everything at once and he hates himself for this, but he also sort of loves Neil for doing that to him.

What kind of person freaks out like that? 

After hesitating a lot, backing up at least twice and almost getting up and sleeping on the couch downstairs, he decided for once being happy with what he has. 

Fuck it. He might make things awkward in the morning, and maybe Neil doesn’t even want to hug  _ him  _ specifically and is gonna be mad about it later, but for now?

For now he just awkwardly shifts a little bit closer, so they can both be comfortable. Neil was bigger than he expected - even though they were approximately the same height, he was still a bit wider than Todd. He had to shift so that his chin was on top of Neil’s head, and Neil happily snuggled against his chest. 

Having someone so close for what had to be the first time was surprisingly calming. It was almost like he was protecting Neil; from nothing in particular, true, but it still felt nice.   
His mind stopped running in circles in a big, (gay) panic. 

He could finally sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> *The answer is A Labracadabrador.  
> ** i saw this happening okay shut up
> 
> comments make me cry from happiness.


End file.
